Colder Weather
by Little Octopus
Summary: The story is about a comic artist, Alfred, on the road. He is separated from his husband due to the weather. Blindness and fear are always with the couple.


**Colder Weather**

***I do not own the song or _characters._ All rights go to respective owners. Song details at the bottom***

*•*•* **He'd take Colorado if he'd take him with him** *•*•*•*•*

In the Livingston mountains in the middle of Montana, snow has been falling since Thanksgiving. Now, at the middle of December, it is a winter wonderland. Arthur Kirkland-Jones moves around his cabin kitchen. He sings softly to the latest American pop song that comes on the radio, humming the parts he doesn't know. He steps and stirs the scrambled eggs to the beat, slightly off.

He hears the soft click of dog nails on the hardwood floor. He smiles and sets his spoon down to kneel and embrace the corgi. "Good morning, Lady." He says to the white and brown spotted dog. "Where's Hero at? Are you guys hungry?" Arthur stands and gives Lady one more pat on her head before searching for and grabbing the dog bowls.

Arthur scoops dog food into the bowls, careful to make sure the cup is full before he dumps the food. He shakes Hero's bowl. "Hero!" He calls, waiting for the frantic running golden retriever. Not hearing the dog, Arthur frowns. He sets down the bowls and moves from his kitchen nook to the wooden backdoor. He pulls it open, shivering as snow and wind swirl past his bare arms and feet.

"Hero! Come and eat!" He shouts. A golden head pops up from a snow drift, as if to say, 'food?' "Hurry up, dog! It's cold!" Arthur moves away from the door as the clumsy dog bursts through the door. Hero skids across the floor before his rump collides with the fridge.

Arthur laughs when he hears the thud of Hero against the appliance. He closes the door and mumbles, "Dumb dog." He grabs an old towel to dry Hero off.

The dog happily eats beside Lady, who doesn't seem the least bit bothered by the bigger dog bumping her. Arthur wipes at Hero's paws and rubs his back and belly down before dropping the wet, muddy towel on the floor near the door. He turns off the radio when he walks past it.

Arthur presses his hand against the window and sighs. The window is freezing. He drops his hand. "It's going to snow again, guys." He hugs his arms and rubs his finger over his wedding band. "I hope Alfred is home before the storm hits."

He's answered with the crunching of dog food.

*•*•* **He closes the door before the winter let's the cold in** *•*•*

He eventually returns to his breakfast. Slightly burnt, but edible. He leaves the dishes in the sink.

"Let's go for a walk." Arthur tells his pets, turning into the hallway by his kitchen. "We need to go to the shed and get some more firewood."

At the end of the hall, he goes into his and Alfred's room. He shifts through the closet, feeling his throat tighten at the smell of Alfred's dusty clothes. His husband hasn't been home in over three months. Alfred, as a comic artist, travels the country for cons and signings. Arthur supports him completely, but these months on end alone in the mountains, Arthur has started talking to not only the dogs, but to everything. He has even started to make voices for Lady and Hero in his mind.

Arthur pulls out one of Alfred's red flannel shirts. He presses the fabric to his face. Don't cry now, he tells himself, you'll just make Hero upset and you won't get anything done.

*•*•* **He wonders if his love is strong enough to make him stay** *•*•*

After a minute, Arthur takes the shirt away from his face and moves to his dresser. He pulls on an undershirt then the flannel shirt, buttoning the cuffs. Alfred leaves them unbuttoned, he rolls the long sleeves. Arthur then dresses in his warm under clothes before pulling on jeans and his snow pants. He tugs his gloves on, then mittens. He moves to the hallway closet and slips on his coat. Pulling a beanie over his ears, Arthur goes to the door.

"Hero, Lady. Let's go." He opens the door and the dogs run out. He stuffs his feet into his snow boots by the door. He closes the door tightly and follows the dogs across the snow covered lawn. The snow reaches well past Lady's belly so she follows behind Hero. Arthur trudges behind them. The crisp winter air makes his cheeks tingle, and while the smell of pine is light, it still tickles his nose.

At the shed, Arthur shoves the door open, snow spilling in on the dirt that had been protected from the last storm. He shuffles to the pile of firewood. He feels the ground when he picks up a log, he's running low. He'll have to chop more tomorrow. He would normally have Alfred do it, but if he must, Arthur can manage a trunk or two. He'll just actually wear his emergency pager.

He balances an armful of the logs and walks out of the shed. He somehow kicks the door shut and starts his way back to his cabin. "Come on!" He calls to the dogs.

They bound in front of him. Hero barks and tries to get Lady to chase him, but she aims straight for the door.

Arthur smiles when he hears Lady scratch the sole. He opens the door for the corgi, but then she turns and barks. Hero joins her. Arthur frowns. "What is it?" He raises his eyes and searches for what the dogs are barking at, a force of habit. What he doesn't see is a white truck is pulling into the drive, making a new path in the snow.

*•*•* **He's answered by the taillight, shining through the window pane** *•*•*

Arthur drops the logs in the doorway when he hears the truck. He bolts to the truck. However, with the snow and heavy boots and not knowing exactly what direction to go to, he trips and falls face first in the snow.

"Arthur!" Alfred shouts, slamming his door shut and running to Arthur.

"Alfred!" Arthur struggles to stand, thankfully Alfred is there to haul him to his feet. "Oh, Alfred!"

"What are ya doin' out here?" Alfred asked, bringing Arthur to his chest. "Do you have your emergency pager with you?"

"I-I... firewood... no..?" Arthur feels his eyes well up as he looks up at Alfred's wonderful blue eyes and his soft wheat hair. "Alfred!" He sobs.

"Hey, sweetheart." Alfred grins and kisses Arthur's forehead. Hero and Lady bound around Alfred's legs, Hero barking happily and Lady wagging her tail and butt at the same time.

"Let's get inside." Alfred says after a time Alfred spent looking at the other.

"I'll get the fire going." Arthur smiles and kisses Alfred firmly before going back to the door and gathering the dropped firewood.

"_I'll_ get the fire going." Alfred grabs his suitcases and follows Arthur.

Arthur pulls off his beanie and shoes. "I can do it, Al. I have before." He walks in the house and hangs his coat and hears Alfred's shoes on the floor. He's most likely getting snow on the wood. "Pet, will you leave your shoes beside mine outside please? Hero slips on the floor."

Alfred laughs and rubs at Hero's chest. "He is pretty dumb, huh?"

"Indeed he is." Arthur lights the fire and fetches the towel he used to dry Hero earlier.

"Make sure you separate your laundry and I'll get it started. What do you want for dinner? Oh, I didn't do the dishes from this morning..." Arthur was babbling. He was so nervous! He hasn't been with Alfred in so long, and oh how he had missed the man. With his blue eyes that he knew glimmered, his warm body and rough fingers that became that way due to his pencils and pens.

Arthur wipes down Lady before trying to make Hero hold still long enough, but Hero has other plans. He's begging Alfred for attention, which Alfred happily gives. Arthur is finally able the dry down the dog as he's rubbed by Alfred.

"Hey, Artie." Alfred releases Hero and pulls Arthur to his chest. "Want to see-" Alfred stops short. It was still too soon for Alfred. And he didn't want to hurt Arthur's feelings.

But Arthur just touches Alfred's chest and shoulders before finding his hands. "What state this time?"

Alfred let's out a breath before grinning. "New York and Texas!" He slips his arms snugly around Arthur's waist.

Arthur smiles and melts into Alfred's touch. He knows what Alfred has gotten him. The same thing he gets him from each state. A stuffed bear with the states name and a landmark of some sort on the bear. Arthur already has well over thirty. Alfred was shooting for all fifty, then to do another collection, but with bells or spoons or something like that. Arthur smiles. "Describe them to me?"

Alfred tugs Arthur into the kitchen. He hefts one of his suitcases on the table, making Arthur wince at the rough noise it makes. He quickly brushes off Alfred's 'raised-in-a-barn' style.

"Here we go!" Alfred pulls out the Texas bear first. "He has big cowboy hat and cowboy boots with a vest. On the back of his vest is Texas and some saying.

Arthur smiles and takes the bear gingerly. "He's so cute. What does his vest say?"

"'Howdy.'" Alfred laughs.

"Oh wow." Arthur giggles.

"He's my favorite." Alfred grins and kisses Arthur's cheek before getting the other bear. "But this one is awesome. The guys insisted on taking me to some strip club and you'll never guess what I found!" Alfred holds up a bear. "Okay, she has lipstick and piercings. She's wearing a thong and a bra and has money in the strings. Across the cups are 'NY'."

Arthur laughs and takes the bear from Alfred. "That is ridiculous!"

"I know! But I couldn't resist! And the strip club was female so I had to keep myself entertained."

Arthur suddenly feels his throat close. Would Alfred have enjoyed himself at a _male_ strip club? Arthur brings the Texas bear close to his neck. Alfred says he would never cheat on Arthur, but the poor lad is very naive, and he did follow his friends to a strip club.

Alfred must have sensed Arthur's feelings because he jumps to Arthur's side. "Hey, remember my vows?" He whispers, stroking Arthur's soft pale cheek.

"Yes." Arthur breathes. When he was feeling lonely, he would listen to their marriage video. He had memorized Alfred's worlds. The American had said that they stick together like a hero and a sidekick. That Alfred would love him through fights, and flights. He would stay beside Arthur even with his failing vision. Alfred had said he was the Sonny to Arthur's Cher. Their wedding song was 'Then He Kissed Me'. Arthur shakes his head. "Your grammar was atrocious at our wedding. I'm surprised I stayed so calm."

Alfred grins widely and slides his hands up Arthur's back. He ignores the jab at his speech.

Arthur turns slightly to set his bears down before he embraces Alfred. "It's lonely without you." is all he says.

"Oh, Arthur." Alfred pulls Arthur more firmly to his chest. "How about I cook you dinner? Shepherd's pie?"

Arthur smiles into Alfred's shoulder. "You're the best."

"I try for you." Alfred replies, planting a warm kiss on Arthur's forehead.

Arthur continues to smile.

*•*•*•* **He said 'I wanna see you again.'** *•*•*•*

"But I was stuck in some cold weather, Arthur." Alfred says.

Dinner has been cleaned up, Arthur has put the dogs in their room, a fire has been lit in Arthur and Alfred's room, and some clothing has been shed.

"It's alright, poppet. I understand." Arthur says, gesturing to the frosted window.

Alfred laughs. "Right. And I _knew_ that tomorrow would be better and we would be together soon." His hand trails from Arthur's hip, to the back of his knee and up again. Arthur has just Alfred's red flannel on, nothing underneath. Alfred wears only his pajama pants.

Arthur let's out a breath and brushes his fingers across Alfred's chest and stomach. "It's been so long." He whispers.

"I know, sweetheart. I would have been here last week, but the plane got caught in a storm in Colorado." Alfred brings Arthur closer to him.

"I'm just glad you're safe." Arthur murmurs, nuzzling Alfred's neck.

"Hey, Arthur. Know what else has been a long time?" Alfred says, his lips close to Arthur's ear.

Arthur shivers. He knows exactly what Alfred is talking about. But that doesn't mean he can't tease. "I don't know. You haven't cleaned the house or given the dogs a bath in a while."

"Arthur..." Alfred whines. He nips at Arthur's ear lobe, pushing him back on the bed before standing and pulling at his pajama pants strings.

Then, when Arthur is splayed out on the bed, he says something he has been thinking of for three months. He grins, already giggling. "Draw me like one of your anime girls."

Alfred laughs loudly. "I don't draw hentai, Arthur!"

Arthur sits up and spreads his legs, his knees bent. "Maybe we can give you some inspiration."

"I'm pretty sure we can accomplish that." Alfred says, descending between Arthur's legs and connecting their lips.

Arthur let's Alfred lay him back on the bed. He opens his mouth. Alfred takes control and Arthur is putty in his hands.

Alfred grinds against Arthur's bare and growing erection. His fingers deftly unbutton the flannel, leaving it to hang open and fan out around Arthur's torso. Arthur moans softly into Alfred's mouth.

Pulling away, Alfred smiles and sheds his pajama pants before rubbing against Arthur again. The Brit writhes at the raw friction. "Alfred..." He breathes.

"I missed you so much." Alfred whispers, devouring Arthur's neck.

Arthur's hands grip Alfred's back, his nails lightly digging in. "Alfred, please..." he whines. It's been too long for foreplay!

"Same spot?" Alfred asks, moving to Arthur's pert nipple.

"Yes! There!" Arthur moans and holds Alfred's head.

Alfred pulls away and chuckles. "I meant the lube, sweetheart."

Arthur blushes and nods. His breath has already shallowed. As Alfred leans across the bed to the nightstand, Arthur runs his fingers down Alfred's torso. Even though the American spends most of his time drawing and brainstorming, he always finds time to work out.

Once the purple bottle has been retrieved, Alfred lifts one of Arthur's legs to his shoulder. "I'll go slow, since it's been a while."

Arthur nods and leans forward just enough the kiss Alfred's toned stomach.

Alfred squirts a generous amount of lube over his fingers and shivers. He holds the bottle to the firelight and squints. "I'll pick up some more lube when we go into town tomorrow. I'm sure you're low on groceries."

Arthur wiggles and pulls at Alfred's arm. "Alfred! _Please_... I need you." He finishes with a blush.

"Alright, alright." Alfred grins and lays Arthur back again, kissing down his neck to attach back onto Arthur's nipple.

"Hah!" Arthur closes his eyes when Alfred circles his entrance with a finger before pushing in. "Alfred..." He grits his teeth as Alfred works his finger in and out of his hole.

"Damn, you're so _tight_." Alfred says over Arthur's neck. He wriggles in a other finger and Arthur rakes his nails down Alfred's shoulder blades.

"Oh god... Alfred!" Arthur moans when Alfred scissors him and moves his fingers in deeper. It burns and makes Arthur feel warm and full, but it still is not enough. "Hurry." Arthur breathes, hooking his fingers back to Alfred's shoulders.

"Okay, Arthur." Alfred quickly takes his fingers out and spreads the lube over his cock. He hefts Arthur's leg more firmly in his shoulder and pushes into Arthur's half-prepared hole.

Arthur arches against Alfred's chest, moaning loudly. "Hell yes!" He shouts, rubbing his cheek against Alfred's.

"Nnggh... damn Arthur. I need to come home more often." Alfred grunts at the tight fit. He is barely able to squeeze himself into his husband.

"Alfred..." Arthur flops back on the pillows. "Please move." He begs. "I can't stand it."

Alfred smiles and kisses Arthur's forehead. "You're so beautiful."

Arthur sighs and hugs Alfred close to his chest. "I wish I could see you again."

"I know, sweetheart. Hey, let's not think of that, okay?" Alfred nudges Arthur's sweet spot with the head of his erection, making Arthur suck in a breath.

"Alright." Arthur lowers himself to the bed, keeping his fingers on Alfred's back.

Alfred starts to move into Arthur, making the Brit arch and dig his nails in Alfred's back. "Slow down." He hisses.

"Sorry, sweetheart. It's just been so long..." Alfred whispers. He leans down and kisses and licks Arthur's neck, distracting him from the burning in his nether-regions.

Finally, Alfred is moving in and out of Arthur completely.

With a smile, Alfred pulls out quickly before pushing in. Arthur winces slightly before he adjusts to the rhythm. It's not long before his nails are coming down Alfred's shoulder blades, the scratches spanning out like a pair of wings.

"Alfred!" He yells.

Alfred runs his hand down Arthur's chest before he takes hold of Arthur's erection and pumping it in time to his thrusts.

Arthur's voice is cracking with his loud moans and panting, but he doesn't care. He could go all night with Alfred if he had too.

Arthur comes first. He is slightly embarrassed that he would finish so quickly while Alfred kept going, but he closed his eyes against the white, replacing it with black and letting Alfred have at him. The only way Arthur is able to prove he's not asleep and enjoying every bit of this, is his constant chant of 'Alfred' and soft moans.

When Alfred fills Arthur to the point of spilling, he gathers the Brit into his arms. "I love you so much, Arthur."

Arthur sighs into Alfred's soft hair. "I love you too."

*•*•*•* **Can I call you, then?** *•*•*•*

Alfred wakes to a cold bed and the smell of cleaner. He sits up and rubs his head. "Arthur?" He calls.

"I'm in the kitchen." comes Arthur's reply.

"Be right there." Alfred swings his legs out of bed and pulls his pajama pants back on. Then his brain catches up to him.

Arthur was _alone _in the kitchen. Not only could the house burn down, but Arthur could lose a limb!

Alfred rushed to the kitchen to find Arthur mopping the floor and Hero sitting under the table pouting.

"Let me do that." Alfred snatched the mop from Arthur and finished cleaning the floor. "What happened?"

"Hero guzzled his food and water and threw up." Arthur sighed. "Dumb dog gets that way each time you come home."

"I'll feed him again." Alfred says, putting the mop away and getting the dog bowl.

"No. If he gets more food he'll just throw up again." Arthur says. He moves to his radio and turns it on.

"Come on Artie, he's hungry." Alfred whines.

"He won't learn if we just feed him." Arthur puts his hands on his hips. "We need to be constant. He's like a toddler."

"Hmph." Alfred huffs. He waits for Arthur to turn before he fills the cup with food and kneels in front of Hero.

"Alfred!" Arthur brings his hands up to clap the counter. "I am blind, not deaf. Do _not_ feed that dog!"

"I'm not!" Alfred freezes, the dog food feet away from Hero's mouth.

"Put it back."

"I am."

"No you're not. I mean it Alfred." Arthur turns a glare to where he knows Alfred is.

"Fine." Alfred drops the food back in the bag.

"Thank you." Arthur lets his glare fall then turns to the cabinets. He rummages through them, frowning. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"There's nothing much to make. How about we go out? Then grocery shop?" Alfred asks, placing his hands on Arthur's shoulders.

"Alright. Let's lock the dogs up and go, then."

"Why do we have to lock them up?" Alfred pouts.

"Because if there is a fire, the firemen won't look for the dogs unless they know where they are. And since we always have fires going, I trained them." Arthur says, walking from the kitchen and down the hall. "Lady! Hero! Kennels!"

Alfred watches Hero bolt from his spot under the table and to the bedroom. Lady trots to her bed and plops right down. Arthur ushers Hero into his own kennel before locking them and dropping a treat through each of the bars.

"How do you do that?" Alfred asks, pulling on his coat as he walked into the room.

"I just know where they are." Arthur replies and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. He finds his own coat in the closet and slips it on before going to the door. "You're going to have to help me with the truck."

"Okay." Alfred opens the door and shoves his feet into his boots before grabbing Arthur's hand to help him with his.

"I can handle this part, Alfred." Arthur says, pulling his hand away and putting his shoes on gracefully. "Now come here." Arthur then holds out his hand and lets Alfred lead him to the truck.

"It's a big step, be careful." Alfred says, worrying his bottom lip.

"Alright." Arthur says. He hears Alfred open the door and lifts his foot, looking for the floor.

Alfred gently pushes his foot closer to the step until Arthur finds it and lifts himself into the truck. Alfred makes sure Arthur is fully in the seat before slamming the door shut and running to the other side.

The American climbs in quickly and turns on the truck. "Are you cold?"

"Just a tad. Where are the vents?" Arthur reaches a pale hand out and touches the dashboard.

"Here." Alfred blasts the heat and turns the vents to Arthur's face and chest. "Better?"

"Yes. Thank you." Arthur settles back into his seat and Alfred pulls out of the driveway, does a two point turn, and follows his tracks from yesterday down the mountain.

The couple used to live in the suburbs. And Arthur wasn't always blind.

When he was a kid, Arthur wore glasses all throughout elementary and middle school. However, when high school hit, the glasses were no longer working. No matter how strong the prescription was. Arthur had met Alfred two years before he could see absolutely nothing.

Arthur had avoided everyone. He didn't want to hurt people. He didn't want to be a burden. But one bloody obnoxious American in a failing art class and Arthur was stuck with Alfred. He had seen Arthur struggling and helped the blond despite his protests. Arthur was glad that he got to see the American for two years before his vision turned white. However, Arthur's image of Alfred will forever be the young eighteen year old graduating. And Arthur's image of himself would be a pale, depressed nineteen-year-old.

Due to his parents money and sympathy, Arthur was able to get him and Alfred a house in a nice neighborhood with families, with kids, and with dogs. Arthur stayed home while Alfred went to college for graphic art. They were able to live there peacefully for a few years, but there were a few teenagers who thought that putting tripwires and pins in Arthur's path was funny.

Alfred would come home to Arthur sitting in the yard because he couldn't find his way back inside due to the wires and needles. Arthur's feet, ankles, hands and sometimes his face bleeding. His cheeks were always tear stained and his self-esteem in the negative.

When Arthur broke his wrist, Alfred tried to sue the teenagers but since they were minors and Arthur was blind, no one had any proof it was those teenagers. So Alfred moved Arthur to the mountains. Since then Arthur has been happy and Alfred has never come home to a crying and bleeding Arthur.

But Alfred still worries. What if Arthur doesn't turn off the stove? Or tries to use a knife and cuts his wrist, and then he would bleed out! Even if he did use his emergency cell phone, the ambulance would have a hell of a time trying to get up the mountain. And during the winter, Arthur could run out of firewood and he would either try to chop it and get himself hurt or he would freeze! Since Alfred wasn't home much, he was worried all the time.

Arthur had tried to travel with Alfred, but he would have anxiety attacks at the airports. Not to mention the homophobes that would yell out crude things when Alfred held Arthur's hand to help him through the crowds of people. It broke his heart, but Arthur chose to keep the house tidy for Alfred when he would return home. When that happened Alfred got Arthur a little corgi puppy. On Alfred's birthday he got a golden retriever in return.

Alfred reaches over and grabs Arthur's hand. "You warm?"

"Yes." Arthur says, leaning back against the seat.

"We're almost there." Alfred lifts Arthur's hand to his lips and kisses it before smiling against the smooth skin.

"Alright." Arthur shivers at Alfred's touch.

Five minutes later, Alfred pulls into he parking lot of the local grocery store. It doesn't really have a name since only about a hundred people shop there each week and fifty of those people work there.

Alfred cuts the engine. "I'll be right over to help you out." He says as he unbuckles his seat-belt.

"Okay." Arthur says, already feeling the cold seep into the truck.

The ground is slippery, but Alfred manages to rush over to Arthur's side of the truck. He opens the door and grabs the blond's hands. "Be careful, sweetheart. It's icy."

"Alright." Arthur swings his legs delicately out of the truck and slides down to the ground. He stumbles but Alfred is there to hold him up. "Thanks." Arthur keeps a firm hold on Alfred's arm as he closes the door.

Being in an unfamiliar place makes Arthur's stomach uneasy. He could humiliate himself by running into things, he could injure himself, people could whisper about him acting like a child. He doesn't like doing it and thanks the heavenly beings that he only has to leave his house every three months or so.

Arthur clings to Alfred's arm, and Alfred uses that hand to help lead Arthur by placing his palm on Arthur's back.

"I'm getting a cart." Alfred mumbles, letting Arthur go and rushing to the line.

Arthur stands where Alfred was doesn't know if he is in anybody's way. He feels extremely awkward and wraps his hands around his elbows.

Finally Alfred returns and places Arthur's hand on the cart handle. "Just hold on to this. I'll handle everything else."

"A-alright." Arthur already wants to go home.

Alfred pushes the cart into the store. He picks up things he knows Arthur will need. Once in a while he asks what brand Arthur likes or if there is anything special he wants from the aisle.

Arthur becomes increasingly tired during the trip. Even though he's just walking, he flinches every time someone shoulder checks him because he didn't get out of their way. He also hears the whispers. The two faggots who only come out of hiding to shop. How dare they touch? How dare that man place his hand like that on another man? The whole situation makes Arthur want to cry, puke, drink and throw a good punches at the bloody wankers.

"Almost finished, Arthur." Alfred presses a kiss to Arthur's hair. "When we get home I'll make lunch."

"Sounds good." Arthur tries a smile. He isn't sure how well it worked out.

They were silent. Then Alfred spoke. "Hey! What are you doing here?" His hand left Arthur's back.

Arthur gulps and grips the cart handle tightly. Why would Alfred leave him standing here in the middle of... god knows where?! He takes a breath and listens to Alfred.

"Yeah I just got back from comic con." Alfred is saying.

A male voice answers, softer than Alfred's. "So you actually became famous with all your doodles."

"I told you I would!" Alfred laughs.

"Who is this with you?" the voice asks.

Arthur shuffles his feet and lowers his head.

"Oh, this is Arthur, you've met him before. Come here, Arthur." Alfred grins. "You remember Matthew, right?"

No. Arthur's line of people he remembers begins and ends with Alfred. Not including the dogs.

"Yes. Hello, again." Arthur raises his head and gives a smile. Well, hopefully it's a smile.

"Don't be shy, come here Arthur." Alfred says again.

"I remember you." Matthew says, "You got drunk at Alfred's birthday a few years ago and started stripping."

Heat floods Arthur's face. "R-right. I could never drink well."

Matthew sticks out his hand. "It's good to meet you again."

"You as well." Arthur stands with one hand on the cart and the other at his side.

Matthew gives Alfred a look and Alfred just gazes at Arthur, slightly embarrassed by his husband's disability. It's always hard to tell people that Arthur is blind. Finally Alfred shakes his head and puts Matthew's hand down. He points to Arthur's eyes and shakes his head.

Matthew seems to get it because his mouth goes into a silent 'o' and he nods. "It was nice seeing you-" he flinches and Arthur realizes Alfred had just told him.

"Likewise." Arthur waves before turning. He will not be the blind kid again. He doesn't want Matthew to go and tell all his friends. He doesn't want people coming up to Alfred and asking if Arthur is blind. So, Arthur will walk by himself.

He strides down the empty space in front of him. He doesn't reach out with his feet or hands. He just walks like he would at home.

"Arthur!" Alfred calls from behind, but Arthur keeps moving.

That is, until he trips on a display of twelve packs. He yelps and feels the boxes and cans fall on his back as his head hits the ground.

Alfred runs to Arthur and pushes the soda off him. "What the hell are you doing?!" Alfred snaps.

Arthur pushes himself to a sitting position. "I don't-"

"Seriously, Arthur? Did you think it was a good idea?" Alfred grabs Arthur's arms and lifts him to his feet.

"Stop yelling at me!" Arthur hisses. He knows they're drawing a crowd. He can feel their eyes. "I want to go home."

"So do I, but now we have to clean up this mess! Or should I say I, because you can't do anything!"

Arthur freezes. He opens his mouth, then closes it. His sightless eyes begin to water and he ducks his head before anyone can notice them.

Finally Alfred hears what he said. "Shit. Arthur-"

Hands touch Arthur's shoulders and he slaps them. "Don't."

"I didn't mean it." Alfred tries again, his hands centimeters from Arthur's face.

"If you didn't mean it, you wouldn't have said it!" Arthur takes a step back. His foot lands on a can and he falls back. Once on the ground, he hugs his knees.

Alfred kneels down and wraps his arms around Arthur. "I'll take you to the truck."

Arthur pushes at Alfred's chest. Tears slip down his cheeks. "Back off."

"Arthur, stop acting like that." Alfred leans back and brushes at Arthur's cheeks before pushing back his hair. "You're bleeding."

"I'm fine!" Arthur snaps. He stands. "I'll be outside."

Alfred looks at Matthew and whispers. "Please help him. I'll clean this up." He gestures to the fallen cans and spilt soda. "Here." He hands Matthew his truck keys before turning to the upset store manager.

Matthew nods and rushes to Arthur's side. "It's Matthew."

Arthur visibly stiffens. "I don't need help."

"It's icy outside. And I have the keys to the truck." Matthew says.

Arthur is silent. He knows he can't get to the truck by himself, but he is far too embarrassed to ask for help. So he lets Matthew walk beside him in silence.

Suddenly, Matthew grabs his arm. "Careful."

"Alright." Arthur ignores the way Matthew acts like Alfred.

"You know, it's not like people will hate you because you're blind." Matthew says.

"You don't know anything." Arthur mumbles, wrapping his coat more tightly around him.

"I do know that Alfred loves you. Even though you can't see. I know that I don't hate you even though you are blind and you made a scene. I know that most people will be glad to be your friend and help you if you would let them." Matthew unlocks the truck.

Arthur lowers his head. "Do you know how cruel people can be?"

"Yes. He and my own boyfriend get it all the time." Matthew says and opens the door.

Arthur is silent. He knows he has to apologize and swallow his pride. But he has a right to be upset at the universe, doesn't he?

He sighs. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"It's alright, Arthur. Would you like help into the truck?" His voice is gentle, like he's talking to a stray animal.

Arthur nods. He reaches for Matthew's shoulder but is surprised when the man just lifts him by his waist into the seat. "Thank you." He says, a light blush on his cheeks.

Matthew nods before feeling like an idiot and says, "No problem. I'll uh, start the truck."

Arthur is silent until Matthew speaks again. "Make sure you apologize to Alfred, he was only trying to protect you. I can only imagine how he feels. He only sees you once in a while. Not to mention he leaves you home alone. I'm sure he worries."

"Yes. When he gets home he won't let me do much of anything." Arthur smiles to himself. He actually enjoys the showering attention Alfred gives him upon arriving home.

"Alright." Matthew pats Arthur's leg. "Alfred's coming, see ya later." He closes the door.

Arthur waits in silence as the back door opens and the sound of plastic bags fills the cab. He would get out and help, but he's afraid he would get in the way. So he chews his lip and fights with his tears.

Alfred climbs into the truck and sighs. "Ready to go home?"

Arthur nods. He places his hand on the center seat console, hoping Alfred would take his hand and kiss the back of it and rub his thumb over his knuckles. Arthur bites his lip as he waits.

The truck moves forward and his hand is covered in heat. He lets out a breath and wraps his fingers around Alfred's hand.

"You okay?" Alfred asks.

_I am now._ "Yes."

They ride in silence. Arthur knows he should speak up, but what would Alfred say?

Suddenly Alfred's hand left Arthur's. Arthur turned his face to Alfred's side of the truck. "Al-"

"Hello?" He's on the phone. Arthur bites his lip. "Oh, hey Carol." He pauses. "Already? I just got back." He sighs. "I know. That sounds awesome, it's just-"

Arthur feels the truck stop. They can't be home already. He hates not knowing what's going on.

Alfred continues on the phone. "Seriously, Carol. I can't this time."

Can't what? Arthur rubs his arms.

"He doesn't like going to cons. Fine, I'll ask him. I'll call you back." Alfred hangs up and tosses his phone into a cup holder. "Arthur-"

"I'm sorry!" Arthur says, closing his eyes. "Before you say you're leaving just let me apologize for what happened. I know you sacrifice a lot for me and I shouldn't be like how I was at the shop. I'm sorry."

It's silent before warm arms envelop Arthur. "It's alright, sweetheart. I'm not mad."

"R-really?" Arthur finds Alfred's shoulder and buries his face in the muscle.

"Yes, really."

They sit like that. Arthur doesn't know how long but when Alfred pulls away, he feels cold.

"Who was on the phone?" Arthur finally asks. He feels the truck begin to move again.

"My manager. She wants me to go to Colorado for a big con." He says, finding Arthur's hand.

"Oh. And?" Arthur feels his heart clench.

Alfred sighs. "It's one of the biggest cons, and not many famous people go to Colorado. I just..." He lets go of Arthur's hand to run a hand through his hair. "I want to go, but I just got back and..."

"When is it?" Arthur asks. He leaves his hand between them, waiting for Alfred's hand to return.

"Two weeks. But I don't have to go. Arthur, I know I just got back, but you can come and it will be fun! I promise. But I know you don't like them and I'm just-"

"You're a rambling man." Arthur interrupts. "You are never going to change." Alfred is silent and Arthur reaches his hand out. He finds Alfred's shoulder. "But you have a gypsy soul to blame and you were born for leaving."

"Arthur... what are you saying?" Alfred finally takes Arthur's hand.

"You can go." Arthur feels tears in his sightless eyes but he continues. "It wouldn't be fair of me to keep you away from all your fans."

Alfred watches Arthur. Does he not know that Alfred can see his tears pooling? Probably not. Alfred really wants to go to the con, but he feels awful for leaving Arthur. He wants to stay, yet he has to go.

"Alright." Alfred leans across the seat and kisses Arthur until the windows fog up.

That night, Alfred makes dinner and Arthur disappears into the bathroom for a bath. This makes Alfred nervous but he refrains from going to the bathroom to check on Arthur every time he hears a splash.

Hero and Lady keep him company in the kitchen as he mashes potatoes.

Then, Lady leaves the kitchen. Alfred blinks at her, but lets her go. He remembers how stubborn she can be.

When the table is set and Arthur is still in the bathroom, Alfred makes the move to check on him.

"Arthur?" He calls, peeking into the bathroom. It's empty and the tub is dry. Furrowing his brow, he goes to the bedroom.

There he finds Arthur curled up with Lady and one of Alfred's t-shirts on.

Arthur, hearing Alfred come in, hides his face in Lady's fur.

"Babe, what's the matter?" Alfred asks, sitting beside Arthur and rubbing his back.

"Nothing." Arthur curses himself when he sniffs.

"Arthur, come on." He grabs Arthur's arm and lifts him into his lap. Arthur is quick to curl into Alfred's chest. "What's the matter?"

"I-I'm just going to miss you." Arthur mumbles, bringing his legs in tighter.

Alfred presses a kiss to Arthur's hair and caresses his bare leg. "I'll be home before you know it."

"Be careful. A big storm is coming."

"I will."

Alfred chops firewood and leaves piles beside all the fireplaces. Not to mention he fills the shed. Arthur should have enough until Alfred gets back.

Arthur is quiet for the rest of the week, choosing to hold onto Alfred whenever he can, and kissing him when he can't. Alfred isn't sure how Arthur does it.

All too soon, Alfred packs his bags, kisses Arthur for a long moment and drives away from sobs and howling. Alfred can't tell when Arthur ends and when Hero starts.

*•*•* **At a truck stop diner just outside of Lincoln** *•*•*

The night was black as the coffee Alfred was drinking. He sighs and looks out the window. A few snowflakes can be seen when they venture close enough to the window.

Alfred checks his phone to see if Arthur had called. No bars. He runs a hand through his hair. Arthur probably has no bars either.

The waitress comes by and sets down a plate full of pancakes in front of Alfred.

The blond looks up and smiles at the young girl. In her eyes, Alfred sees the same light of adoration Arthur has in his own dull green eyes. In the eyes of the husband he left behind him. Alfred smiles sadly and thanks her, but she doesn't leave.

"Can I help you?" Alfred asks, smiling politely.

"Are you Alfred Jones?" She grins and moves slightly closer to the table.

"Er... yes. I am." Alfred says.

The waitress beams brightly and takes her phone out. "Can I take a picture with you?! Oh my god! I love your comics! You're my favorite!"

"Uh, sure." Alfred grins and let's the girl press her cheek against his and take a picture. After, she finally leaves him to his midnight pancakes.

Alfred has to see Arthur again. He had been away for far too long. It isn't fair for Alfred to leave Arthur like he has. His fans are second to Arthur and his family.

He got back into his truck after his pancakes, a few autographs and a voice mail he sent to Arthur from a pay phone.

*•*•* **Well, it's a winding road, when you're in the lost and found** *•*•*

Alfred drives. Left, then right, then left. It feel like he is going in circles. But that was the way with the Yellowstone mountains. Never a straight line in a forest.

He contemplates how he and Arthur go so well together. Arthur is a lover and Alfred is a runner. They just go round and round.

Alfred loves Arthur. Hell, he wouldn't be wearing this gold band if he didn't. Yet Alfred leaves him. He doesn't want, but needs Arthur. His blond hair that he never manages because it's impossible. His eyebrows Alfred plucks when he gets home. His eyes that used to be so vibrant now dull, but still holding all the love and faith.

Does Arthur know it's him that calls Alfred back there?

The road gets slick. Alfred slows down and turns the windshield wipers on full blast. He takes a breath and plows through the deepening snow.

He had passed a gas station a few miles back, but it would be fruitless to turn back now. The sign says the town their house is considered a part of is ten miles away. Alfred can only go twenty miles an hour.

Can Arthur wait five hours for him?

Alfred grips the wheel and makes the turn to enter the five mile canyon that would end in another five miles of snowy plains.

This must be the storm Arthur was talking about. It's amazing how someone can sense the weather like Arthur does.

Alfred turns off the radio and pushes through the snow. He knows he should stop, but he would freeze or end up with a dead car battery if he were to wait it out.

"It's just a little snow." Alfred says to himself.

*•*•* **When I close my eyes I see you.** *•*•*

It's eerily quiet tonight. Arthur decides to let the dogs sleep with him. He closes his eyes and thinks of Alfred.

He can always see Alfred. No matter where he is. Not in the present, but the precious memory of his teenage face with lingering acne and cracking voice. Arthur wonders if Alfred still has a bit of acne from those years. He is only twenty-three.

He shifts, making Lady stand from her spot.

"Lay down. It's fine." Arthur coos until the dog settles back down.

It's not long before he moves again, finally chasing the grumpy dog from the bed completely.

He sighs. It's only been a week since Alfred left, and five days of the storm outside. Before the storm hit, Arthur would walk outside and smell Alfred through the whispering pines. Excited, Arthur would shout and turn, looking for Alfred. Only to have no one embrace him. He then would cry out and beat the snow uselessly with his hands. He would have hit a tree, but a bear would find him before he found a tree in the forest with his luck.

Arthur sits up and brings his knees to his chest. Maybe some music will help.

He swings his bare legs out from the blanket and shivers. He stands and quickly wraps his blanket around him, finally waking Hero.

Hero raises his head and blinks at Arthur before jumping off the bed and following him into the kitchen.

Arthur picks up his radio, glad that Alfred helped him change the batteries before he left. All the while, Hero stands stock-still in the doorway that leads to the living room and stares at the front door.

When Arthur walks down the hallway, he runs into Hero's rump and topples forward. He turns in midair to save his precious radio, but ends up landing flat on his ass.

"Stupid dog!" He yells, knowing he would surely bruise.

Hero merely blinks at Arthur before turning his gaze back to the door.

Arthur collects himself and his blanket before standing. He brings his radio to his night stand and clicks it on. He has never listened to the radio this late at night, so he has no clue what will be playing. Or what signals will get through the storm.

He fiddles with the dial and moves through static before music comes through the speakers. It's the only station he can get, and it's country.

Not only is country Arthur's least favorite, but it reminds him terribly of Alfred. He wants to turn it off, but then the house will be silent again.

So, Arthur lies down. "Lady, Hero." He calls softly.

One of them jumps up behind him and folds themselves on the curl of Arthur's legs. That's Lady. He tries again. "Hero! Come here!"

Finally, the fall of paws meets Arthur's ears and Hero is in his face. The dog's wet nose against Arthur's cheeks give Arthur the chills. "Okay, okay. Lie down." Arthur rubs Hero's back until he plops down and nuzzles against Arthur's chest.

With them settled, Arthur finally listens to the song. It's a love song, one that sounds much like Alfred's late night/early morning mood, and the singer sounds much like Alfred's voice. Arthur hugs Hero tightly. He recalls this song from the other day.

Alfred had decided to take a drive. He said he wanted to go exploring and Arthur was coming no matter what. Arthur remembers Alfred's radio set at every country station he knew. Every song he sang. However, he sang the song Arthur listens to now with a more sincere voice.

_'Cos I wanna wrap you up,_  
_Wanna kiss your lips,_  
_I, I wanna make you feel wanted'_

Arthur buries his face in Hero's soft, gold fur. Despite the warmth, something feels cold in his stomach.

When the song ends, the radio lets out a weird tune. Arthur raises his head to hear the next part clearly.

"Missing persons report. Comic artist and writer Alfred Kirkland-Jones has not been seen for a week. His plane landed in Lincoln, Colorado for a comic con, but he never showed up. Reporters say he was last seen at a restaurant a few miles outside Lincoln. The waitress there said he left after a meal in what we now know was his white truck and the severe snow storm that has been hovering over Montana and Colorado for the past few days settled in after he left. Alfred Jones is five feet eight inches, has blond hair, blue eyes and wears prescription glasses. He has a wedding ring on and the last outfit he was seen in was a red hoodie and blue jeans. The truck he was driving is a white Ford. The license plate is US UK. If you have any information, call 867-5309. Thank you."

The man's voice cut off and the normal DJ's voice takes over.

Arthur feels cold. He feels hallow. He sits up and grabs the radio, but the man doesn't come back on the radio. Just another song. He tosses the radio on the bed and runs outside, bare legs and all.

The wind and hail whip at him, but he somehow makes it halfway to the shed. He paces around in circles before cupping his mouth with his hands.

"ALFRED!" He shouts, tears warm on his already cold cheeks before the water freezes.

Hero joins him and so does Lady. They don't understand what's going on, and Arthur feels a wave of envy toward the dogs. Alfred has been missing for _five_ _days_. While Arthur was at home, warm and cursing the American for always leaving!

Arthur falls into the snow and cries. His tears melt the snow briefly. Hero nuzzles his side and Lady whines, both anxious for their master to stand.

Finally, chilled to the bone, Arthur stands and wobbles inside. He doesn't care that the snow falls onto his carpet and melts, nor that he crawls into bed soaking wet.

Night ends and morning comes. Arthur must have gotten sleep, because the faint light hurts his eyes. He sits up and finds he hasn't completely dried from the storm. He stands and changes.

After making tea and failing at eating breakfast, Arthur has made up his mind.

He can't very well go and look for Alfred. But he can send signals to him. Lincoln is at least two days away by car. Add in this storm and that's four. Alfred should be close. And Arthur plans on letting Alfred know where he is.

*•*•*** I'm with your ghost again** *•*•*

Alfred lifts his head. He feels cold, but not terribly so. He rubs his forehead and feels indents. He blinks and notices that his head was resting against the steering wheel. That would explain the indentations.

He looks around and sees snow piled against his car window. "Damn. How long have I been here?" He asks the stale air.

Quickly, he searches for his phone. Finding it, he tries to bring the touch screen to life only to discover the phone to be dead. Alfred tosses the now useless device into the passenger seat.

Alfred runs a hand through his hair before trying to start the truck. It sputters before giving up. "Damn!" Alfred punches the steering wheel. He can't be that far away from the house. He remembers exiting the canyon and passing the little town. He has to be near their cabin.

He opens the door to at least clean off his windows. He looks around the area. It's night, and he is in a small clearing with trees standing hundreds of feet high. Wasn't there a clearing like this in that one horror film?

No! Don't think like that. The cannibal hillbillies don't live in Montana! Or do they? Shit, shit, shit. Alfred decides to leave his truck blended in with the surroundings and climbs back in.

But then they could sneak up on him.

Slowly, Alfred opens the door and wipes a bit of snow away from his side window. However, when he slams the door shut, the snow falls off anyway.

Alfred sighs and looks out the window. Not a star in the sky. At least it isn't snowing at the moment. He's sure it hasn't stopped snowing since he left Colorado.

He sits and ponders what to do next. Dead phone and a dead truck mean that he's sure as dead, unless he can find his way to town or Arthur.

He knows the woods like the back of his hand. He's sure he'll eventually come across the cabin. But town is straight down the mountain. He'll hit a road sooner or later.

Suddenly, a red light catches his eye. Fuck. Cannibals found him. But, when he turns to look at the light, he notices that it isn't coming closer, but growing in height. A forest fire? How is that possible with all the snow?

Then it hits him. A fire. Someone is close by. The only person who lives in these mountains is Arthur!

Alfred flings the door open and sprints out of the clearing and up a hill, abandoning his truck.

If he would have looked back, he would have found that he left no footprints in the freshly fallen snow.

*•*•* **It's a shame about the weather** *•*•*

Arthur feels around the ground before finding a broken branch. He drags it over to the increasing heat and throws it. The momentum makes Arthur stumble and fall into the snow.

His hair is wet and he's soaked to the bone, but he has to have Alfred come home.

He stands and feels a warm body come up by him. "Hey Hero." He says, placing a shaking hand on the warm golden head. The dog whines.

Arthur whips his head around, searching for Alfred's footsteps or even his truck. He hears nothing. He let's out a frustrated growl, Arthur moves closer to the fire. He notices he's shivering violently. He gets as close to the fire as he dares. The smoke burns his nose and throat as he stretches his hands out to the heat. He coughs once before moving in closer.

He just wants to see Alfred again. One last time. He slumps to his knees as the heat envelops him.

All is silent for a few moments. The fire stops. The wind ceases it's howling. The snow doesn't fall. Hero lets out not one whine. Arthur feels comfortable. That warm feeling you get waking up on a Saturday in the summer. Calm.

He lifts his head. Fire blazes in front of him, yet he feels no heat. He is warm, but comfortably so. He blinks before he realizes he can _see_ the red flames. Arthur gasps and stands quickly before throwing his eyes left and right. Sparkling snow drifts surround him. Trees loom over him. Arthur laughs.

He spins around and finds footprints all around behind him. Littered back and forth across the snowy lawn. Nothing has ever looked so beautiful. He whips his body back to the flames and spreads his arms. He laughs once more before he notices the bundle a few feet inside the fire.

He takes a step closer to the flames and leans into the heat. His body temperature doesn't change. Squinting, he sees three forms. Then he catches a glint from an extended part of a form. A ring. Arthur covers his mouth before scuttling away from the burning place. As he backs away, he realizes that the shed's fire had dried out the nearby trees before catching them ablaze.

The fire is very slowly spreading. It won't get far, but Arthur still worries. "Hero! Lady!" he shouts, looking for the dogs.

Nothing bursts from the snow to greet him. "Hero?" He yells again. "Lady!" Tears prick his eyes as he brings his gaze back to the fire. "H-hero? Oh god, Lady!" He rushes to the fire, tears marking his cheeks.

"Arthur."

The blond spins around, nearly falling in the snow. "Alfred." He stares at his husband. Alfred had aged over the few years Arthur hadn't seen him. His eyes still sparkle behind thin wire glasses. He seems taller, or is Arthur just small? Alfred's shoulders are no longer the half scrawny things they were when he was eighteen. Though Arthur already knew they felt stronger, he felt a thrill go through his belly at the strong and sturdy sight of Alfred.

"Oh god. Alfred!" Arthur rushes to his dear American.

Alfred is dumbfounded. Arthur is headed straight for him! He opens his arms to catch the happy Brit. "How did you do that?" Alfred asks, one hand around Arthur's waist and the other caressing his blond hair.

"I can see you!" Arthur cries out.

"But, how?!" Alfred leans back and stares at Arthur's pure green eyes.

"I don't know." Arthur shakes his head, grinning. "Who cares? I'm just glad you're safe."

Alfred puts his astonishment aside and smiles. "Right." He kisses Arthur firm and long before pulling away. "I love you."

Arthur runs his hands through Alfred's soft hair. Had it gotten darker since he last saw it? "I love you too." he whispers, unable to look away from his husband.

*•*•* **But I knew soon we'd be together.** *•*•*

_"Alfred Kirkland-Jones has been found dead. His truck had swerved off a road that led to his house in the Yellowstone mountains in Montana. His truck died and the comic artist froze to death. Fans from around the world have created memorials for their fallen artist. His series will not continue. His husband, Arthur Kirkland-Jones has also been discovered dead. The blind man had somehow set their nearby shed on fire. Police say he must have gotten too close to the flames and couldn't find his way out. Two dogs were beside the man when he was found. The town refuses to resell the house, saying the couple were the only ones to make the isolated cabin a loving home."_

*•*•* **I can't wait till then.** *•*•*

**So I was chillin in the tub and this song came on and I was like, FEELS. So this happened.**  
**Not sure if one can live in Yellowstone but it's fanfic.**  
**Colder Weather by Zac Brown Band. I don't own them.**  
**Song Arthur was listening to near the end was Wanted, Hunter Hayes.**  
**Hope you enjoyed!**

***Hannah-fish: GROSS SOBBING.**


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